Old Memories
by dreamorreality
Summary: Tony goes over to Jethro's for a 'night cap' and finds out something about Jethro's past. SPOILERS for Conspiracy Theory.


AN: Spoilers for 'Conspiracy Theory'.

* * *

Tony was used to this now, the wanting, and the need. He was used to it and he knew what to do when he felt that way. So, he walked up to Jethro's door again (yes, Jethro). He didn't need to knock, or get a key out. Jethro never locked his door. Jethro's protection was always nearby; his gun lying on a convenient table. Tony could hear the sanding the second he walked into the house and shut the door. The rhythm wasn't the same; he seemed to be rushing, pushing harder on the wood. His usual rhythm was slow and steady, like it helped him think. But tonight it was different, like he was trying to chase a memory away instead of remembering it. He walked toward the basement door and noticed a bottle of bourbon on the coffee table. Tony moved down the hallway and through the basement door. From the bottom of the stairs he could see how different Jethro was. Tony had watched him many times as he sanded the boat, but he had never been like this. 

"Jethro?"

Tony didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Jethro's defensive moves. The man had been a Marine and Tony would never want to be a criminal on his hate list. Even though he knew what Jethro might do to an intruder, Tony still took a step forward and did an inventory of Jethro's surroundings. Another bottle of bourbon on the table, gun sitting peacefully next to it. Extra sanders were lying around the boat frame, and a very different Jethro was sanding an already-sanded boat rib.

"Jethro."

Tony stepped closer to Jethro, watching him carefully as he pressed down on the wood. Sweat was running down his nose from his forehead. He had to have been working for a while since his arms were glistening with sweat too. Tony had never seen Jethro like this before, never thought Jethro could get like this.

"Jethro, come on, stop for a second... I want to talk to you."

Tony was standing right behind Jethro now, just a foot of space between him and the deadliest man he knew. Jethro spun around, sander still in one hand and his hair lying flat from all the sweat that had gotten trapped in it.

"I CAN'T stop!"

Jethro threw the sander past Tony's shoulder and it hit the wall behind him with enough force to leave a dent. Tony flinched a little at the sound but didn't move away from Jethro. He could feel the older man's heat coming off his body, could see Jethro's blue eyes now and read the pain in them. Tony wanted to comfort him but didn't know how.

"Stop what, Jethro?"

Tony's voice was softer than Jethro's, his voice surprisingly calm even though he had a really pissed off ex-marine standing in front of him.

"I can't stop thinking about him!"

Tony couldn't stop the confusion that crossed his face. Tony only remembered the woman who had died; he never thought of any of the suspects after a case was finished, and he knew Jethro never did either.

"Who is he?"

Jethro ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand on end, and stepped away from Tony. He walked to the stairs but didn't go up. When he turned around Tony was watching him carefully, trying to read him better.

"He's someone who should have never died, Tony."

With that Jethro walked up the stairs, leaving Tony behind. Tony stood there in shock for a moment before he raced up the stairs behind Jethro.

"Jethro?"

Tony noticed the bottle that he had seen on the coffee table was missing and then he heard a crash come from Jethro's bedroom. When he got to the door he stood in the doorframe and watched Jethro. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands and a pile of broken glass near the wall in front of him, a stain spreading there as well. Tony walked over and knelt in front of Jethro, trying to look into his eyes.

"Jethro, tell me about it."

Jethro looked down into Tony's eyes, his own mixed with pain and anger. Tony couldn't tell what he was angry at and that scared him most of all.

"I can't."

Jethro's words were quiet, almost silent, and Tony stood up and sat next to Jethro so he could hear him better. He placed a hand on Jethro's back and Jethro turned to look at him again.

"Please?"

Tony had a way of getting anyone to talk, even if they didn't want to, and Jethro learned early in their relationship—if you call it that—that it worked on him too. He tried to though... he really did, but it didn't work.

"I knew him a long time ago."

Jethro stopped and sighed; Tony didn't smell any liquor on his breath and figured that he hadn't had any yet. It didn't seem like he was drunk.

"His parents were killed, he said he was okay. Told everyone that there was nothing they could do, told us he was fine. He seemed fine. And he was, until..."

Tony wrapped his arm around Jethro now, pulling himself in closer to the older agent.

"Until what?"

Jethro shook his head, not really saying no but rather trying to get the jumble of information in his head organized.

"He was fine during the day... when people would notice. But when he went home, when he let me come over… he was different. One day..."

Jethro paused again, swallowing what Tony assumed were tears, and started again. His gaze switched from Tony's face to the wall, but Tony knew that he wasn't seeing it.

"He told me that he had a girl coming over. I knew he didn't. He hadn't been seeing any girls since his parents died, but I just figured he wanted to be alone. So... so I left him."

Jethro's head hung slightly, something Tony would have sworn he would never see.

"He called me later. I didn't pick up the phone. I was busy hanging out with my girl; I figured it wasn't anything important. He left a message, told me he had to talk... and talk now. The next morning... I went to his place to help him get ready for class. I found him hanging from the second floor banister."

Jethro stopped then, shaking with sadness. Tears were freely running down his cheeks and his face was buried in Tony's chest. Tony just held him like Jethro held him every night.

"He wanted my help... wanted to talk to me and I let him down."

Tony started rocking Jethro slowly in his arms. There was nothing he could do to comfort him. Tony had no idea what he was going through when the girl had called him during the case, maybe he was trying to make up for missing his friend's call. He had no idea what was running through Jethro's mind during the whole investigation but he was here for Jethro now. That's all he could be and it seemed like that was all that Jethro needed right now.

The End


End file.
